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Attaboy Louis

Attaboy Louis

Louis liked the name: Prospect Cemetery. As if its prescient eighteenth-century builders had known that one day college boys would come there to look for one-night boyfriends. Louis himself found no prospects in Prospect Cemetery. He tried but they didn’t find him...

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Worms in the Dirt

Worms in the Dirt

No time left in Jackie’s thumbs. They died before the rest of her, dangled precious on jagged hipbones, in and out of false pockets. Useless. Amputation was out of the question. Her son moved in to lift cartons of milk, boxes of cereal, orthopedic pillows. Take out...

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When Saturn and Jupiter Meet in the Middle

When Saturn and Jupiter Meet in the Middle

Children play on street corners until the lights grow dim and the stars are visible like pinpricks on a bulletin board. Dinner is an any-hour activity of bologna sandwiches and watered-down Kool-Aid. There’s no urgency for the children in getting home at a particular...

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Commercial Break

Commercial Break

Once a week a truck driver drove down our street. Stuck to the sides of the semi were two television screens. Massive plasma bastards. The screens always promoted something new: shoes, video games, the dentist running for president, carrying wisdom teeth in a bag. The...

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Party in the O.R.

Party in the O.R.

Today is my double mastectomy. Today is also my birthday. As he numbs me, the anesthesiologist wears a pink pointed hat, the string, thin as a Tuohy needle, stretched tight under his chin. Nurses patter around the room, prepping the procedure and blowing sound makers...

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Be Prepared

Be Prepared

A baby grand piano appeared after Billie moved in with her son. Fourth-rate elegance. Plywood garbage. The stroke took away her walking bass. Billie couldn't trust her left hand to play the blues, even after two years of physical therapy. Drinking a glass of water was...

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THROUGH THE WINDOW

THROUGH THE WINDOW

Demons cavort in the darkness of trees. Slender, knuckle-cracking things, whispering a wasp language. You stop your ears with moss, but the what-ifs and why-nots are siren voices. So you take scissors to your hair, swap florals for denim and Elvis for Iron Maiden,...

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Orange: Micro Series

Orange: Micro Series

Womb Cat wants to paint her house fluorescent orange. Call it Crisis. Call it citrus combating scurvy. Cat doesn’t go outside much anymore. She orders in her groceries. She doesn’t answer the doorbell, and whenever the mailman walks onto her porch with another...

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My Mother Calls Her a Head-Case Convict

My Mother Calls Her a Head-Case Convict

But here I am anyway, in the CVS on Perkins and Sixteenth, allowing her to turn me criminal. Like this. Don’t be, like, obvious. See? When she slides a lipstick into her palm, it’s so delicate, you’d think she was lifting a bird. At the counter, three Maybelline...

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AU: the night your husband proposed

AU: the night your husband proposed

You’re standing with toes far back from the edge, not prepared for a swim that night in Otsego when he sneaks up behind and throws you in from the dock, not out, but off to the side where it’s too shallow. You slice both heels on the zebra mussels, squat-swim to the...

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A THOUSAND MILES AWAY

A THOUSAND MILES AWAY

We were always driving and once in the night in the dark after hours and hours, days even of only night driving, you said to me. We’ve gone a thousand miles. We could have gone to New York by now. We could have gone anywhere. You said it in the dark. It was Cedar...

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